


Black Koi

by itendswithz



Category: Naruto
Genre: Amnesia, M/M, Post Fourth Great War, barrier master Iruka, mild dubious consent, tags to be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-20 21:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10671078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itendswithz/pseuds/itendswithz
Summary: Iruka comes home from a mission, but not everything is okay.





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I have some free time, I'm almost done with Icha Icha Love. But(!) this story popped into my head so I thought I'd share what I have so far.

The soft breeze had a calming quality to it that most shinobi would ignore, and despite the heavy foliage above, a streak of sunshine warmed the young ninja deep in thought. In fact, everything about the environment stood contrast to Iruka’s body. His palms were clammy and his heart was racing faster than an untamed horse. His plan gave no space for mistakes and, if the chunin vest and hitai-ate were to be believed, he was a battle-hardened warrior of Konohagakure. He could do this. Gathering his courage, Iruka braced his left arm against smooth tree bark and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do.

With a resolute grip, he pulled a kunai out of his weapon pouch and moved the metal tip to his left forearm. Iruka pushed the steel forward and watched as blood welled to the surface before the hot liquid slid down his arm and dripped to the forest floor. Pain flared up his arm as he dragged the blade down towards his wrist. He made sure to curve the line, pushing deeper as he reached the joint.

Once the knife’s edge was free of his skin, Iruka dropped the weapon, listening as the soiled metal clanged on the ground. He twisted his body, broad back now firmly against the tree trunk, and sat down on the patch of dirt beneath him. Iruka dug into his vest and pulled out medical tape, bandages, and dried apple slices.

His fingers fumbled with the wrappings as he tried to cover the cut completely. He was unused to the size of these soft fingers and his surprise over the thick corded muscles stacked on his body had yet to fade. Whatever he had been doing, Iruka’s body showed the results. Nearly an hour passed before the wound was completely covered.

Luckily, Iruka recognized the path he woke up on. He was about two hours away from home and while his stomach rolled at the idea of the next step in his plan, he knew he had no choice. He munched on the apple slices as he walked to the village’s border.

The sun had shifted to about mid-day by the time he reached the guards. Unsurprisingly, the Inuzuka (judging by spiky brown hair, red triangle face tattoos, and the giant white dog lounging by his side) noticed him first.“Oh! Iruka-sensei!”

Iruka stumbled at the honorific before he jogged forward a few paces, careful to keep himself from getting too close. If he needed to run, the forest was his best bet at escape. “Good day,” he said smiling. The chunin pushed all the fear and anxiety away, forcing himself into a relaxed stance. As his sensei always said, confidence was key in subterfuge. Iruka raised his bandaged arm and waved the limb gently. “Just back from a mission. I need to speak with Morino Ibiki. Do you know where I can find him?”

The deathly pale nin next to the Inuzuka answered, “He is in Interrogation. Do you need medical attention?”

“This is nothing. I’ve survived worse.” He only made it one step away before the Inuzuka spoke.

“Are you sure, Iruka-sensei?” The young man’s voice was soft, almost caring. It was so delicate that if Iruka hadn’t seen the chunin stud earrings and the flak jacket, he’d wonder if the man was really a fellow chunin and not a genin. “It smells fresh. And deep.”

“It’s really not that bad.”

“Still,” the pale shinobi turned to face Iruka fully. “The last time you were injured, Hokage-sama fretted for days. It may be best for you to seek treatment before speaking with Ibiki-san.”

Iruka forced himself not to flinch at the unyielding black eyes. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that Hiruzen might still be the Hokage, might still be alive. But if the old man was the village leader, then the Sarutobi clan head would easily see through his feeble attempts at a plan. “I’ll go to the hospital after I talk to Ibiki. Promise,” Iruka held his fingers up in a salute before he walked away.

Interrogation was in the basement of the police building, which was a block away from the Hokage Tower. Civilians and most nin used the front door, but if someone needed to go directly to I&T, there was a back door.

After a quick scan for chakra traces, Iruka found the door and the lock. The password would have changed in the time he was away but a seal was a seal and every seal had a weak point. If Iruka had been blessed with a Byakugan, he would have found it within seconds. As it was, it took another hour before the chunin was able to discover the password ( _dolphin_ ) and break the lock.

The door swung in, revealing a steep staircase that lead deep into the earth. With a hand firmly against the rock wall, Iruka descended into the building. 

At the bottom of the steps, Iruka found a line of light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. He followed the wiring until he saw a kunoichi, her long blonde hair tied into a loose ponytail, sitting behind a wooden desk. The desk looked to be made of oak and was attached to the wall - almost as if a tree had grown down into the soil instead of up. While it was clear that she was serving as the guard, her attention was focused on the doodles in the notebook in front of her. 

“Excuse me,” Iruka said. “I’m looking for Morino Ibiki.” 

“No problem, Iruka-sensei!” The young Yamanaka smiled wide enough to show off all her teeth. Her cheery mood clashed with the dreary atmosphere but Iruka found himself following her lead and smiled back. 

She didn’t move from her spot. Instead, the jounin (she had to been jounin, Iruka could sense how strong her chakra levels were) closed her eyes and sent a wave of energy out from her body. 

Iruka made himself not stare at the kunoichi. To distract himself, he pivoted to face the dirt wall and began tracing directionless shapes into the rough surface. He never could keep his mind blank but with his fingers occupied, it was easier pretending it didn't take just a warm smile to gain an audience with one of Konoha’s highest ranking shinobi. 

"You need something, Iruka-sensei?" A rough voice broke his weak concentration. 

After turning to face the new person, Iruka’s gaze rapidly absorbed every possible detail. A tall, imposing man stared him down as if the chunin was lower than mud caked to the bottom of his sandal. He was average looking with no visible muscles straining the indigo robe the village interrogators favored, and his gray pants were mostly hidden by a black overcoat. Everything about the man said _nothing to see here_. Everything except two thin scars slicing down his face - one of which ended inches away from his left eye. 

"Iruka-sensei?" the man asked, tone somehow blanker. 

"Ahh sorry," Iruka scrambled to say. "Long mission." 

__The man didn’t respond. He didn’t even blink._ _

__Iruka wasn't certain this man was Ibiki; the emotionless powerhouse before him was a far cry from the chunin's memory of a shy, smiling young adult. Regardless, he knew one way to be sure. Acting embarrassed, Iruka scratched the back of his neck. "My favorite spot to relax is under a waterfall."_ _

__The middle-aged man's eyes widen half an inch but he dutifully answered. "Yes, that's where the fish are plentiful."_ _

__The teacher exhaled one long breath, pushing all of the oxygen out of his lungs. This man was Ibiki and Iruka was safe. Pushing chakra into the palm of his hand, Iruka said, "Black koi."_ _

__Quicker than a shinobi could blink, the chunin released the gathered chakra directly into his nervous system inducing unconsciousness. The last thing he saw before a wave of black overtook him was Ibiki rushing forward to catch his falling body._ _


	2. Chapter 2

Iruka blinked dust out of his eye. He rubbed a hand over his face, physically pushing the last remnants of sleep away.

The sun had just begun setting, lighting the entire village in a beautiful marigold-orange blend. Iruka looked around, delighted to discover he was on the park bench near the old library - the one destroyed when the Kyuubi smashed the village’s first water tower. This was one of his favorite memories. Six months before the demon fox wreaked havoc on Leaf Village and two days after his graduation to genin.

A blue shimmer of light dancing in the corner of his eye caught Iruka’s attention. The chunin turned, not at all surprised to find Ibiki walking through the light and into Iruka’s memory. Whoever was holding this genjutsu must be powerful. Probably a Yamanaka. Maybe even the same one who greeted him.

“Iruka,” the man says, tone friendly. “You’re safe now. Report.”

“Do you remember the day we met?” Iruka asked instead of responding to the command. “I was 16 and you were 21, just promoted to jounin.”

“Yes. I was celebrating with a quick drink when Anko grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me to a table in the corner. She said I needed to meet someone. I thought it was a powerful ninja.”

“And instead you got me, a wimpy 16-year-old afraid of trying a katon.”

A deep chuckle rumbled out of Ibiki. “Yeah, but that 16-year-old grew up to be one of the strongest shinobi I know. Now stop avoiding the question. What happened?”

Iruka felt his cheeks warm at the compliment. He knew he had to confess to Ibiki, but it wasn’t the right time yet. “Do you know what I was thinking that night? I was certain Anko was dropping me from her life and she was parading you in front of me to show why I wasn’t good enough to hang out with a bunch of jounins.”

Ibiki sucked in quick breath, but Iruka continued before the man could interrupt.

“It was stupid. Anko was my best friend and all I had after…” he paused. There was no need to explain how the demon fox turned his life upside down. Everyone’s life changed that night. “So there I am, terrified of what Anko is gonna say. And she says,” Iruka moved his hand to his hips and continued in an overexaggerated snotty impression of the fierce kunoichi. “‘Iruka! This is Morino Ibiki. If you don’t like ‘im, I’ll dump him.’”

“Then she walked off to get a beer and start a bar brawl.”

Iruka laughed, letting the sound echo into his memory. “Yeah. It was awkward. But you told me about your brother and that A-Class nin who pronounced shuriken wrong. And then we came up with our silly little code phrases and by the time the bar closed, I knew you were perfect for Anko.”

A soft silence fell on the pair for just a moment. Iruka locked eyes with Ibiki and finally explained the need for the black koi drill. “That’s the last thing I remember.”

Ibiki gasped a soft exhale of air at the proclamation. Worse yet, the genjutsu shook for a brief second, black-brown replacing the mango sky before the Yamanaka could solidify their grip on the mental jutsu again.

“What? How-”

“I don’t remember my mission. I don’t remember any of the people I saw today. I don’t even know how old I am.”

“You’re 36.”

The muscles in his back spasmed at Ibiki’s response. Thirty-six. That was three times the age Iruka felt. “I’m so...so old!”

“I’ll remind you,” Ibiki said with a scowl. “That I’m five years older than you.”

“Oh sweet Hokage. You old too.”

Whatever retort rested on Ibiki’s lips died as a new shimmer of blue light sparkled in the space between them. Ibiki ducked forward, sticking his head into the light and left the genjutsu. It was kind of comical to see Ibiki’s body without a head and a giggle bubbled in his stomach at the thought.

The laugh didn’t have a chance to break free though - within a minute of popping out of the jutsu, Ibiki was back with a deep scowl.

“Someone wants to enter the genjutsu. But if you can’t remember anything, it might not be beneficial.” Ibiki paused, clearly giving Iruka time to think over his statement.

The chunin racked his brain, trying to think of who would want to speak with him. Anko was his emergency contact; she would have been notified the second Iruka knocked himself out. Unless…

“Is Anko dead?” Iruka asked point-blank. Like ripping off a band-aid, it’d be better to face this pain straight away, no mercy wanted or needed.

Ibiki was quick to answer, face dropping into a reassuring smile. “No. No, she’s on a mission with her students. Why would you think that?”

“She’s my contact. I filled out MR-12674, in triplicate, she should be here.”

“You always were an ass about paperwork,” Ibiki said before moving his weight from one foot to the other. It could almost be called fidgeting. “Anko’s not longer on your forms. Your husband is.”

“My husband?! I’m gay?”

In that moment, a miracle happened: a rosy blush spread across the interrogator’s dark features. “More like bisexual. You’ve dated - no that’s not important right now. Do you want him in the genjutsu or not?”

Iruka, always a man of action, didn’t take long to decide. He squared his shoulders and nodded once, prepared to meet the man he married.

Knocking against the nearby street lamp post, Ibiki gave the Yamanaka a signal. The blue light, which had never fully disappeared, grew in size as a man walked into the jutsu. He didn’t stop to say anything, just moved forward until he could inspect Iruka. 

Long, thin fingers, paler than a frozen moon, caressed the teacher’s arm, “Sakura-chan healed you, but she’s worried about an infection. Is that why you put yourself in a coma?”

Iruka could do nothing but stare at the man, eyes wide as saucers, mouth open enough that he was sure to swallow a passing fly.

“The injury is not why Iruka is in the genjutsu,” Ibiki answered for the chunin.

Iruka, recovering from the shock of who his husband was, turned to face his friend when a nasty thought danced in his brain. _Ibiki is playing a trick on you,_ it taunted.

“Beke,” Iruka said, his voice darkening. “Is this your idea of a joke? I tell you I have amnesia and you say I married Hottie Hatake!”

“Hottie Hatake? Be-key?” Kakashi’s voice was positively gleeful for a moment before it dropped into a carefully controlled, emotionally blank, “Amnesia?”

Kakashi had stopped his investigation into whether or not Iruka still had an arm (he did) but he hadn’t moved away, letting his breath breeze through his mask and ghost over the chunin’s skin. And it was that, and that alone, that made Iruka’s skin tingle in joy.

“Ru-Ru,” Ibiki, clearly upset over being called by his childhood nickname, spoke in a stern voice. “It is not my fault you married Hatake. Believe me, I tried to stop it.”

“Maa Beke, don’t be-”

“And,” Ibiki continued over Kakashi’s interruption, “It is not my fault you filled out MR-12674 and MR-32981 and PER-12880. Nor is it my fault you strong-armed Hatake into filling out the same forms.”

Properly chastised, Iruka looked over at Kakashi. PER-12880 was a big deal. It was a lifelong document that once signed could never be changed. It allowed for one Konohagakure citizen to make any decision regarding a shinobi’s life - including healthcare, financial resources, missions they could take or reject. It was a commitment and a promise rolled into one 50-page-long document that had to be filled out by both parties at the same time while they were in front of the full council. “So we’re married. And we love each other?”

“Yes, Ru-Ru,” Kakashi said, tone serious. “Of course, I seduced you. Although you obsessed over me for nearly a decade, I made the first move. You even had a picture of me in a locket-”

Iruka shifted his hand up, covering Kakashi’s mouth and pushed the older man’s face away. He knew a lie when he heard it. The chunin didn’t even react when Kakashi licked his palm. Two days ago ( _more like 20 years ago_ his mind unhelpfully supplied), that hand had been up a dog’s butt for a D-Class mission that required recovering a lost string of pearls (don’t ask). Kakashi could lick it all he wanted.

“Ibiki?”

The head of I&T sighed heavily but answered. “You love each other. It wasn’t a political marriage or a marriage of convenience. For some reason, you fell in love with this one,” he waved a lackluster hand at Kakashi, “and he was already in love with you.” A dark smirk flashed across Ibiki’s face. “In fact, Hatake worships the ground you walk on. He even has a casting of your footprint in his locker.”

Even with half his face covered, Iruka saw the look of pure mortification in the jounin’s expression. Taking pity on his husband(!), Iruka asked, “A locker? So you’re with ANBU?”

“Errr not exactly,” Kakashi answered, scratching the back of his neck. “There’s-”

“Wait,” Iruka interrupted, turning to face Ibiki once again. “You said it wasn’t a political marriage. Why would it be political?”

Ibiki opened his mouth to answer but Kakashi spoke first. “You’re the Hokage’s favorite assistant.”

The scowl that dominated most of Ibiki’s everyday conversations returned and the man shared a pointed look with the silver-haired nin. Obviously, the duo knew something Iruka didn’t, but without more information, it was impossible for the tan-skinned man to decipher what the look was regarding. Instead, he focused the conversation on him again. “I am?”

“Yes, but you don’t brag about it.”

Iruka looked to Ibiki for confirmation. “You are indeed the Hokage’s favorite assistant. And you haven’t let the position go to your head. If anything, you’ve become a little more lenient in your paperwork demands. In fact, some would say that the Hokage has been a bad influence on you.” Ibiki ended his explanation with another pointed look at Kakashi.

Iruka ignored the exchange in favor of thinking over what the interrogator had said. If the Hokage changed the regulations around filling reports, Iruka would have no choice but to follow the new rules. The problem was with what the actual changes were. If the Hokage had lesser requirements in a misguided attempt to make things easier for Konoha shinobi, it could leave the whole village vulnerable. Great paperwork policies could stop a spy faster than a league of ANBU.

“I’ll have to see the Hokage’s organizational system and speak to them about these “lenient” changes,” Iruka decided out loud.

Kakashi choked for a second, breath coming out in a harsh wheeze. “Maa sensei. I’m sure that’s not necessary.”

“And how would you know? What exactly do you do for the village?”

Kakashi shrugged and draped an arm around Iruka’s shoulder, “A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

Iruka nodded his understanding. Kakashi was ANBU but could not confirm it. He knew the dangers of being in the organization - his mother had been an ANBU captain after all - and considering Kakashi’s age, the man was most likely a bodyguard for couriers and diplomats. Still dangerous but a low-risk of assassination.

The conversation lulled for a second. Before anyone can say something, the blue light returned for the third time in less than an hour. It shimmered like a diamond in a clear river, demanding attention immediately. Iruka scrunched his nose in irritation. Whoever was holding this genjutsu seemed incapable of making decisions on their own. Them graduating from the academy must have been a mistake; perhaps the instructor had been lax in his responsibilities. Another item to speak with the Hokage about.

“It seems Ino needs me,” Ibiki said. “Iruka, after she ends the genjutsu, we’ll move you to the hospital for a more thorough exam. You’ll have to spend the night there.”

Shifting his stance to face Ibiki, Iruka was careful to keep Kakashi’s limb securely in place. “I can’t go home?”

“Maa dear. It’s probably best to have someone watch over you just in case.”

Ibiki agreed with Kakashi, “What he said.” The man didn’t wait for a response, just walked out of the genjutsu, leaving Iruka alone with his husband.

An awkwardness settled around the pair. Iruka didn’t know how he felt about having a husband. He was curious about their relationship, about sex, but his body wasn’t demanding attention like it used to. Instead, Iruka felt comfortable with this man hanging on him. “So…” he started, unsure of what he wanted to say.

“How bad is the amnesia?” 

“Oh. I don’t remember anything after I turned 16.”

Kakashi hummed and began pulling his arm away from Iruka. The chunin moved quickly, placing his tan hand on the pale one resting on his shoulder. “Please don’t,” he said. “I may not remember our relationship now, but I trust myself. If I love you, then I love you. I don’t want to lose this too.”

Kakashi melted like butter in the sun. “You’ll never lose me Iruka-anata. I am yours forever.” The silver-haired ninja leaned down, his steel-grey eyes bright with passion and love. Iruka could see the truth in Kakashi’s eyes: there would always be love.

The soft silk of Kakashi’s masked gently touched Iruka’s lips in a closed mouth kiss. The taller man shifted so a firm hand could cup the small of Iruka’s back and pull the chunin deeper into the embrace. 

Iruka felt his body stir in ecstasy and the familiar desire for more slowly unfurled in his stomach. With shaky fingers, he threaded his hands through shaggy hair and opened his mouth, inviting Kakashi to take control of the kiss. The jounin growled, low and possessive.

But before the kiss could go further, a loud pop rang through Iruka’s ears. The teacher blinked rapidly, trying to push the black spots out of his vision. He was on his back, strapped to a bed, staring up at dirt. A harsh light illuminated the room completely. Any action Iruka tried would be easy to see and easy to stop.

“Iruka,” Ibiki’s course voice cut into his thoughts. “A mountaintop is the best place to practice fire jutsu.” _Are you okay?_

“You’d have better luck in a forest.” _Yes._

Metal clanged as the straps were released and Iruka leaned up and twisted, getting a better view of the room. Ibiki, content knowing Iruka was okay, walked over to a mattress placed perpendicular to the futon Iruka was on and laid down. His body stilled immediately but before Iruka could say something, he caught sight of a young, pink-haired woman assisting his husband into a crouched position.

“You know better than to strain yourself,” she berated. “Rushing down here like it was life or death.”

“Maa Sakura-chan,” Kakashi, his eyes large enough to display white, begged for sympathy. “Iruka-sensei was hurt. You know I’m the best at making him feel good.”

At that, the jounin sent a flirtatious wink at Iruka. The chunin felt his face heat up and his pants, which had already been a little tight, became even more constricted.

“Oi!” The pink-haired woman scowled. She pivoted and approached Iruka, stopping about three feet away. “Iruka-sensei, I’m Haruno Sakura, I’ve been tasked with looking after you.”

Iruka didn’t recognize the family name, but it didn’t matter to him. Shinobi should be judged on the strength of their character, not on their family’s legacy. “Ino-chan,” Sakura said, waving a hand at the fifth and final person in the room. “Has informed me of your...circumstances.”

Iruka studied the nurse in front of him. She was about average height, and her smile was just a bit too forced to be real. Her white lab coat fell past her sock-covered knees, the red dress she wore underneath was buttoned just above sternum and cut up to thigh, showing a thick black underlayer of shorts, and displayed a smart sense of style and practicality. Her sensible ensemble was completed with a bob haircut, a few strands pinned back to prevent them from dropping into her view. She looked good and could fight in the outfit.

Iruka couldn’t even gauge how stronger she was since her chakra was pulled tight around her. She had a lot of control and probably a near-limitless supply.

He nodded once to show he understood her statement before casting a look around the room. Clearly, he was underground - probably still in Interrogation. Kakashi stood, stretching like a cat after a particularly good nap. The long lines of the jounin’s body distracted Iruka for a second but the teacher continued his sweep landing on Ino.

It was the kunoichi from before. She sat on a wooden chair, back ramrod straight, blonde hair trapped in a loose ponytail and slung over her right shoulder. Her purple dress was a lot less modest than Sakura’s especially since it did nothing but highlight the large swell in her stomach. Iruka didn’t know enough about pregnancy to guess how soon she was to giving birth but he wouldn’t be surprised if the baby burst out anytime soon. Her eyes were closed but her lips were moving ever so slightly.

“What’s…” Iruka stumbled for the right words.

“Ino’s holding a meeting with Ibiki, Shikamaru, and Naruto,” Sakura answered. “It’s not going well.”

Iruka blinked and looked around the room again. There was no one else present. Not this Shikamaru nor this Naruto. Iruka knew certain members of the Yamanaka clan could hold conversations using their mind justus, but they always had to be in the same space as the other shinobi. “How? There’s no one else here.”

“Ino,” Kakashi said as he walked slowly to where Sakura stood. “Is very good at what she does.” He turned to Sakura and continued, “What the problem?”

Sakura placed two fingers to the side of her forehead, closed her eyes and answered, “The dolt wants to come home. Shikamaru is trying to convince him to stay in Snow and help complete rebuilding. Ibiki’s trying to placate him.” She opened her eyes and glared at Kakashi, as if he was at fault for this problem. “But he’s as bad as you when it comes to Iruka-sensei’s health.”

Iruka blinked at that. Whoever this Naruto was, he deeply cared for Iruka. “Who…” Again, he struggled for the right words. “Is Naruto...Why does Naruto care?”

“He cares,” Sakura said, elbowing Kakashi to stop the older man from saying whatever it was he planned. “Because you are an important part of his life. I’m sure Kakashi-sensei will explain things tonight. While you both sleep in your assigned hospital beds.”

“Maa, Sakura-chan, do I need to? It would-”

“I am the Head of the hospital and you will do what I say.”

Iruka found a smile curling on his lips. “Kakashi-sensei? Was he your jounin teacher then?”

A bright smile crossed Sakura’s face. “Yes. But he was terrible so I had to find a new one,” her tone teasing.

“So mean!” Kakashi said pouting. Iruka wasn’t sure how he knew Kakashi was pouting but he knew.

“I’d be nice if you just listened to my orders for once in your life. Now pick up your crutches and follow me.”

Sakura didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she walked straight to one of the dirt walls and placed a hand against a random spot. A wave of chakra crashed against the soil and the wall crumbled, revealing a long, dark tunnel. The kunoichi turned her head to look back, presumably to verify that Kakashi indeed had his crutches and that Iruka would follow and started walking on the new path.

Iruka, who saw no reason not to trust the woman, walked over to his husband’s side and helped the man hobble his way after his former student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love (also, no beta and I wrote this one my phone so let me know if there are mistakes).


	3. To The Hospital We Go

The path turned into a slight incline about fifty paces in and another ten steps revealed a string of lights, illuminating the tunnel in a hazy yellow. Even though Sakura-san was only about eight feet in front of the pair, Iruka felt like it was just him and his husband.

Since Iruka was supporting some of Kakashi’s weight - with the jounin’s arm dangling over the chunin’s shoulders - their sides bumped every few steps. It was nice being this close to the man he married. Iruka was curious about Kakashi. He knew the legends, the rumors, but very little fact. He knew the man had barely been a boy when he graduated to genin, not even a teen when he was named jounin. Kakashi had gone to war and most likely been recruited to ANBU young.

But what about after that?

“What happened? Why do you need crutches?”

“Nothing to worry about, dear,” Kakashi answered with a smile.

“He over exerted himself again,” Sakura’s loud voice cut in. “When he heard you were in a coma, he ran all the way from Sand. Didn’t stop once; not even when he broke his toes jumping onto a rock.”

Iruka looked to find Sakura-san had turned, hands on her hips as she glared at his husband, pose so similar to Anko’s usual angry stance he subconsciously deferred to her. “He’s lucky I didn’t amputate it.”

“Maa Sakura-chan. My Ru-Ru was in trouble.”

The hospital head gave the pair an unimpressed look, humphed loudly and continued walking up the steep hill. Iruka turned to his husband, “ _Your_ Ru-Ru?”

The only visible eye crinkled in amusement. “We are married.” Even without a flirtatious tone, Iruka found himself blushing because of this man.

“What were you doing in Sand? And what about your charge? Will he be safe in enemy territory without you?”

“My charge?” Kakashi tilted his head in confusion, much like a dog would. “Oh, Shikamaru. He’ll be fine. Suna is actually our closest ally now.”

A heavy weight settled in Iruka’s chest, causing a long breath to pass through clenched lips. Everything was so different. Barely had a conversation started when Iruka learned he didn’t have any of the facts. It was like he was an actor who’d studied the wrong script and he felt like a damn fool.

So lost in his thoughts, Iruka didn’t notice Kakashi wasn’t moving until the man’s weight roughly shifted, jerking the chunin to a stop. “We’ll fix this,” the jounin’s voice was quiet but not soft. The tone of a commander expected to be followed. “I swore to protect you and I will.”

The declaration rang in Iruka’s ears as another soft blush warmed his cheeks, and, in that moment, Iruka understood how his older (younger?) self could fall in love with Kakashi. “I...I…” he stumbled to say.

Before he could formulate his thoughts into something coherent, the ground shook and a harsh breeze of earth-tinted chakra swooshed past them. Iruka looked up to discover Sakura-san had caused a second wall of dirt to crumble, opening the rocky pathway to a speckled-tiled hallway. The plaster-white walls were windowless and a heavy metal door loomed ten feet in front of where the mednin stood, hands on her hips.

She turned 90 degrees, keeping one eye on the door, the other on the couple. With a wave, she gestured for the married pair to join her. “Iruka-sensei, this is the underground entrance to the hospital,” Sakura said once their feet touched tile. “That door will only open to mine, Kakashi-sensei’s and your chakra.”

She bent at the waist and flashed through an Earth jutsu, raising the dirt wall at their backs. Kakashi had disentangled himself from Iruka and trailed a glowing finger down the steel, unlocking the door. 

The metal hinges creaked ominously and Iruka felt a wave of anti-climatic disappointment when he saw a plain hospital room, medium-sized bed nestled into a corner. This room was windowless too, but felt less claustrophobic than the hallway.

After he stepped into the space, Iruka saw a small bookcase kitty-cornered to the bed, a leafy spider plant hanging from a line of chakra wire, a small cabinet behind the bookcase so its doors opened to the room, a wooden door to directly opposite of the bed and a second steel door perpendicular to the wooden one. The muted white fluorescent lights gave a soft, comforting hum. There was no doubt this was a hospital room, but Iruka thought the area looked more like it belonged in an onsen than a hidden village.

Standing in the middle of the room, he tried to ask why this room but all he could manage was a “What…” before he trailed off, letting his gestured arm finish the question.

“This is the Hokage’s suite,” Sakura said. “Where you will stay until we have an idea on how to treat you.”

The kunoichi paused awkwardly for a moment. “We’ve never seen a case like this before, so we’ll have to do tests and it may take a while.”

There was nothing to do but nod his understanding. Iruka wasn’t naive enough to believe the cure for his alignments would be something as easy as chakra healing but actually hearing it made him tired and hopeless. He lost years of his life and there was a strong possibility he’d never regain them.

Sakura-san clapped her hands once, pulling Iruka out of his momentary mental anguish. “Once we settle you in, I’ll escort Kakashi-sensei to his room.”

The pair turned to where the silver-haired ninja had climbed into the bed and slid under the blanket. Kakashi had a thin, violet and orange book propped up on his chest, the spine blocking the view of his chin and mouth. The man looked over at the pair and spoke. “It’s best if Iruka isn’t left alone right now.”

His tone was loose but something about it made Iruka want to stand up straighter. A dark look crossed Sakura’s face and she made a face at Kakashi. Remarkably, the man lowered the book just enough to return the look with a slight downward slope of grey eyebrows.

“Ugh, fine,” Sakura said throwing her hands in the air. She walked over to the brown cabinet and pulled out a powder blue, night-time yukata with white stripes, a dark green one with black lines, and a pair of toothbrushes that matched the yukatas’ dominant coloring. She dropped the bundle of clothing on the bed before turning to Iruka.

“There’s a private bathroom behind this door,” Sakura said indicating to the wooden one near the bed. “And this door,” she pointed to the other metal door, “leads to the hospital directly.”

The young nin paused before continuing in the soft voice, “If you're comfortable with Kakashi-sensei staying, then I’m going to head home. It would be best if you got some sleep.”

“I’ll be okay, Sakura-san,” Iruka said dipping his head into a tiny nod.

“Yeah, Sakura-san,” Kakashi added from the bed. “Iruka will be okay here with _me._ ”

With a final, resigned shake of her head, Sakura walked to the metal door leading into the hospital. After a downward glide of a chakra-laced index finger, she was gone.

Leaving Iruka alone. With his husband. And a bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: sex, medical mystery and Kakashi gets mad.


	4. A Night With Kakashi

The seconds ticked by as Iruka waited for Kakashi to do something, anything. But the jounin just sat there, turning the pages in his book as he read. When it became abundantly clear that Iruka wasn’t in danger of a ravishing, he snorted at the stupid fear and grabbed the green yataka.

“That’s mine,” Kakashi said.

The soft silk of the clothe crinkled in Iruka’s hands as he turned to face his husband. Infuriatingly, the man hadn’t put his book down, merely lowered it enough to peek at Iruka, who responded with, “I don’t see your name on it.”

“I wear the green one, you wear the blue one.”

“I don’t like blue.” It was childish but Iruka found he enjoyed needling his husband.

“Blue is your favorite color.”

“Not rea-”

“Blue,” Kakashi said, loud voice overruling Iruka’s soft tone, “Has been your favorite color since you were seven and your father won you an ocean print during the Summer Festival.”

He smiled at the memory. His dad had worked so hard for that print. “I have amnesia - I don’t recall.” 

It was the wrong thing to say. Kakashi’s entire body tensed for a second before the jounin dropped the book completely. “Iruka,” the man started but didn’t finish, leaving the chunin’s name floating in the air like a haunted, forbidden word.

Iruka felt a swell of shame boil in his stomach. It had been less than a day since he stumbled awake in the forest, mind completely blank of any memories post-genin; it was far too soon to make jokes.

“Sorry,” Iruka said, scratching the edge of his scar. A nervous habit he apparently never grew out of. He dropped the green nightdress and picked up the blue one. Moving steadily, Iruka peeled off his dress blacks, letting the skin tight material tumble to the floor, pooling around his ankles. He wasn’t ashamed of his body and living in an orphanage cured him of any worry regarding modesty.

Iruka took stock of himself as he dressed. His tiny, frail frame had grown, expanded into long legs thick with muscle, a flat stomach hinting but not quite reaching six-pack abs, broad shoulders and arms corded with dense strength. There was no doubt about it - Iruka was a man.

The thought sent a thrill of pleasure through Iruka. His mind saw him as the tiny boy barely strong enough to rescue cats from trees. That child had no muscle mass and relied on charka for everything. But this body, this person; Iruka had grown into was someone fierce. He was a fighter. Probably completed missions weekly. A terror on the battlefield. The chunin’s brain swam with pictures of him overtaking rogue nin, cutting down enemy spies, rescuing civilians.

It was all very heroic until he remembered the Inuzuka chunin called him ‘sensei.’

“Why,” he said adjusting the yataka to fall more comfortably on his chest. It wouldn’t close until he buttoned it shut but Iruka wasn’t in a hurry. “Do they call me sensei? I couldn’t have been their jounin teacher - I’m a chunin.”

Kakashi, who hadn’t moved a muscle once Iruka started to undress, huffed a laugh before he shifted to sit up, long legs bent into a square. “You were Head Teacher of the Academy before becoming the Hokage’s favorite assistant.”

 _A teacher?_ Iruka thought staring down at this palms. _How could I have become a teacher?_

His disappointment must have been clear on his face because Kakashi continued. “The most respected teacher in Konohagakure. You’ve done great things for this village - more so than most jounins.”

“But, but I’m just a chunin.” Both of his parents had been high ranking jounin. _Would they have been disappointed in a chunin son?_

Kakashi’s harsh laugh cut through his thoughts. “You’re anything but _just a chunin_. You’re badass. Just last month you made the strongest ninja in the world break down and cry. Granted, Naruto is a easy to rile up,” Kakashi waved a hand in the air, as if to dissipate any rebuttals Iruka might have had and continued uninterrupted. “You strike fear into the heart of jounins with messy handwriting.”

“So I’m a paperpusher. I know how important proper paperwork is-”

“Everyone knows how you feel about paperwork,” Kakashi grumbled, but Iruka ignored him.

“But I always thought I’d leave the mission room for actual missions.”

If Iruka hadn’t been staring at him, he might have missed how the jounin’s hands clenched for nearly a second before Kakashi relaxed his entire body.

“What?”

“What what?” Kakashi answered, eyes sweeping across the room. Threat assessment 101. It’d be cute if Iruka didn’t know it meant Kakashi was hiding something. And since there were only two people in this ridiculous hospital room, Iruka had an inkling as to who the secret was about.

“Don’t ‘what what’ me,” he said trying to channel a hint of authority - if he was a teacher than he needed to sound like one. “You know something about why I don’t take missions.”

He could see Kakashi wavering, debating on whether or not to tell the chuunin, so Iruka went in for the kill. Three steady steps and then he slid down, bumping knees until he faced his husband and cupped Kakashi’s left hand. “I need to know what happened in my life. You’re my husband, I need to be able to trust you.”

A beat of silence followed before Kakashi sighed heavily and spoke, “Good to learn that you never fought fair.”

“I’m a shinobi,” Iruka said, lips twisting just a bit. “Fighting fair isn’t something we do.”

Kakashi sighed again before pulling his mask down completely and continued his story. “Your first mission after being named a chunin ended badly. Really badly. You team was sent to dig through an abandoned Iwa base in the Land of Lightning. One of your teammates activated a trap and he died. The captain was forced to retire, and you ended up in the hospital for over a week.”

Death was a constant in ninja life, and while Iruka could, and would, mourn the loss of life, he didn’t understand why something as regular as a teammate’s death would cause him to flee the battlefield.

“Did I… I don’t understand.” He said when it became clear that Kakashi was waiting for him to respond.

“You recognized the trap from a lecture your sensei gave. The other ninja never heard the lecture since he was in a different class. It bothered you that someone died because they didn’t have a chance to learn the same stuff you did.

“Later, after you recovered and could go on missions, you declined them, arguing with Hiruzen-sama about the need for uniformity in the Academy. You’re a very passionate man, dear.”

Iruka felt the blush sweeping across his cheeks at the endearment but he was too enraptured with Kakashi’s storytelling to care.

“You’re a hero, even if you are still _just a chunin_.”

Kakashi’s steel grey eyes locked on to Iruka’s eyes with such admiration that the dark-skinned man found himself incapable of doing anything excepting leaning forward to capture pale, thin lips with his fuller pair.

A moan echoed into the room and Iruka had no idea if it came from his mouth or Kakashi’s but he didn't care. He leaned forward more and, pushing his body further into his husband's, the pair fell backwards until their backs hit the soft mattress with a dull thud. The kiss was a fierce battle of wills, each demanding more and more from the other. Iruka’s body was alive with desire, blood raging at the feel of strong fingers carding through silky brown hair.

Suddenly, he was flipped over and the chunin’s back was on the bed with Kakashi’s lean form hovering over him, warm breath panting into Iruka’a mouth. He smelled like ash and dirt and heat.

“Iruka,” Kakashi said fighting for air. “We shouldn’t.”

It would have been more effective if the jounin’s legs weren’t spread over Iruka’s hips, especially since the man taunt butt cheeks was nestle against the chunin’s hard cock.

“Yes we should,” Iruka said leaning up to capture Kakashi’s mouth in another kiss. The jounin gasped as tan hands instinctively clutched hips that were unfortunately still covered in official uniform pants.

Suddenly, Iruka had a _need_ to feel Kakashi’s bare skin. It was as if an demon had taken control of his body. “Off. Take these off,” the chunin said in-between kisses.

Kakashi broke the kiss completely. “Iruka. We can’t do this. You have amnesia. I’m taking advantage of you.”

There was a ring of truth to Kakashi’s statement. It did nothing to stop Iruka from running his hands up the man’s thighs, groping his stomach and chest. Iruka knew his husband was hard, could see the black cotton tenting.

And sweet Gods above, Iruka wanted that dick. He’d never touched another man’s cock before (at least not that he could remember). Would it be like holding his own cock? Did Kakashi have a thick shaft or was he more thin? What did dick taste like?

“I want-” he began to say.

“Yes, I want to as well,” Kakashi interrupted. “But it’s not right.”

“We’re married and in love.”

“You don’t know that.”

Iruka could only blink at his husband.

“I mean,” Kakashi said as he stood up and walked away from the bed. “You don’t remember and… and it feels like I’m cheating on my husband.”

Iruka flopped backwards, letting the back of his head bounce lightly on the crumpled linen. “I’m your husband.”

“Yes, but not really,” Kakashi said as a hint of agitation crept into his voice. “It’s different now.”

He thought about arguing, about debating the semantics, but Iruka knew what it was like to have your emotions dismissed. Sighing once, the chunin shifted to his side. “Yeah, I get it.” He snorted half a laugh and said, “Can’t believe I’m getting cock-blocked by my own husband.”

Kakashi humpfed but didn’t respond. Instead he gathered his toothbrush and yataka and headed for the bathroom. Iruka watched him go, eyes focused on the jounin’s ass while his dick valiantly tried to stiffen again. He wanted to jerk off, feel an orgasm course through his nerves but it’d be rude to soil the bed when they clearly weren’t going to have sex tonight.

He squiggled and squirmed up the bed enough to slip under the blankets and rest his head on a pillow. Running his tongue over his teeth, Iruka felt a thin layer of grit - he probably should brush his teeth but the chunin decided against leaving the nest he’d made for himself.

The wooden door creaked open when Kakashi left the bathroom, the forest green yakata pulled tight against his body, practically clutching the muscles. It was ridiculous to feel envious of a sheet of cloth but Iruka’s life was far from normal.

“I’ll take first watch,” Kakashi said leaning against the bookcase. The small, wooden piece of furniture ended at thigh height but Kakashi made his stance look natural.

“I'm pretty sure we're safe in the hospital,” Iruka replied.

“Can never be too sure.”

“Fine. But if you’re gonna stand there, the least you can do is tell me what I’m missing. What’s changed in the Village in the last twenty years?”

“Maa, there’s not much to say.”

Iruka rolled his eyes but settled further into the bed. “Please Kakashi. It’ll help me adjust.” He could tell the man was considering it, so the chunin continued. “It’ll be my bedtime story.”

A salacious smirk flashed across Kakashi’s mouth and Iruka could practically hear the innuendo, but at the last minute, Kakashi changed his mind and started talking. “For starters, the Green Tanto closed down. There’s some weird bakery there now; we hate the place. They don’t even have mochi.”

Iruka closed his eyes and fell asleep to his husband’s ranting.


	5. Chapter 5

Iruka woke well rested. Sitting up and blinking the last remnants of sleep away, he fought to focus on the man lounging against the room’s only other piece of furniture. Kakashi hadn’t moved from his spot, just exchanged the purple and orange book for one with a light blue and dark black color scheme. A pale finger was turning the page when the jounin mumbled good morning.

“So it’s a new day then,” Iruka said looking around the room. Without a clock and no windows, it was hard to judge the time of day. His internal clock said morning, but it also said he was 16 and unmarried; Iruka wasn’t sure if it was smart to completely trust his instincts right now. “Why didn’t you wake me for my shift?”

“I had it handled.”

“Kakashi.” He tried to make his voice stern but an unexpected yawn caught him half-way through the word.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” His husband was literally a child. “Although,” Kakashi said dropping the book to rest against his thighs. “I do tend to wear you out.”

“You can’t flirt after turning me down.” Iruka cursed his stupid redding cheeks.

“Yes I can,” A tiny curve rested on Kakashi’s perfect lips. “It’s just rude.”

“And you want to be rude to your husband.”

“You didn’t marry me for my manners.”

Iruka threw his hands in the air and pivoted to face anywhere but the jounin. Nothing in the room had changed overnight and with so little to distract him, the chunin’s gaze drifted back to where it started: Kakashi and his stupid face. His stupid, beautiful face with faint lines and grey circles under drooping eyelids.

Iruka swept his eyes up and down Kakashi, checking for other symptoms. The stiff, locked knees, the way his body rested heavily on the bookshelf instead of against it, the coiled ready-to-attack chakra. There was no doubt about it; the self-sacrificing idiot had forsaken sleep so Iruka could rest. “Kakashi-”

“That’s twice you’ve said my name since waking up,” the silver-haired man interrupted. “Maybe you should try something else like...K or Kashi or Husband or Dear or.”

Kakashi paused only to continue in a sensuous purr, “Lover.”

Iruka felt his cheeks flame up again and vowed to embarrass the asshole jounin the first chance he got. “That won’t work,” and Iruka swore it wouldn’t - he’d fight past this moment of humiliation. “You won’t be able to distract me.”

“Distract you?” Voice raising in mock indignation. “I’m trying to help you! Other names you can call me include Jounin, Hatake, Brat, Captain, Cap, Hound, Senpai, Sensei, Perv-Sensei - but really only Naruto calls me that.”

Kakashi started flicking potential names off his left fingers. “Copy Nin, Master of a Thousand Jutsus, The Great and Powerful Kakashi, Owner of the Stolen Sharingan, The Mirror-Wheel Eye Master, The Deadliest Shinobi - though none of those are accurate anymore.

“There’s also Slave and Friend-Killer Kakashi. No, wait, I don’t really like those.”

“Kakashi stop!” Iruka’s loud voice echoed in the suddenly quiet room and the chunin made himself not think about why Kakashi would have any of those last few nicknames. It was a beginner ninja lesson: distract the target, and Iruka would be damned if he fell for it (regardless of how effective Kakashi’s methods were). In a calm tone, “I know you are trying to distract and I know it won’t work. You need to rest, you have a broken foot.”

“It’s just the one toe, and-”

“No ‘ands’! Sakura-san will amputate if you don’t rest.”

“Pshhh, I could take her.”

“You will not fight the head of the hospital! Now get in this bed and go to sleep!”

The silence stretched for a long moment but Kakashi eventually gave up. “Okay.”

“Okay? You’re just giving up?”

“You made a strong argument and I’m tired.”

Iruka narrowed his eyes. There was no way a shinobi like Kakashi would just give in. Men like him fought with every breath they had - they weren’t pieces of sand easily manipulated, they were mountains, impossible to move. You had to wear them down over years and years of toiling. Some hidden agenda was being played out but Iruka couldn’t decipher the motives.

They switched places, Kakashi extending his lean body, feet almost touching the plaster-covered wall, tips of silver hair touching the wooden bookcase. The jounin shuffled a bit, finding a comfortable spot before his eyes closed completely and he drifted off to sleep. His mask hung limp around his neck and Iruka ignored the part of his brain screaming _choking hazard_.

It was too easy. Way too easy.

Iruka moved, angling his body to face the metal door. When it didn’t come crashing down, Iruka shook his head at himself. He was being paranoid - and while a healthy level of skepticism kept a ninja alive, too much would only cause him to make a fool out of himself. Which could very well be Kakashi’s intentions.

With nothing to do but think, Iruka tried to puzzle through the past few days. Waking up within Leaf borders had been a miracle, especially considering he’s memory loss. What could Iruka have been doing that would endanger him in such a way? What kind of mission did the Hokage’s favorite assistant voluntarily take that ended so badly? And if it was a mission, where were his squad?

The questions rattled against his mind like fierce stormwinds threatening to topple buildings. It was fruitless but impossible to stop. There had to be some reason he left the village and if Iruka could crack that puzzle, the mystery might solve itself.

He was deep into his thinking, attacking the idea of possibly him taking a solo mission, when a solid knock reverberated against the metal door. “Iruka-sensei, Kakashi-sensei? Can I come in?”

Kakashi threw a thumbs up as snuggled deeper into the blankets. With a shake of head, Iruka opened the metal door and stepped back, allowing Sakura-san and a red-haired nurse entrance to the room.

“Sakura-san,” Iruka began, “Please come in. Don’t mind Kakashi, he refused to sleep last night.”

A vein thrubbed against the jounin’s forehead but she ignored her headache-inducing patient’s bad habits. “Iruka-sensei, this is Leiko-san. She’ll be leading the way on your case.”

The tiny woman barely reached Iruka’s shoulders but her back was straight and solid as she bowed slightly. “Pleasure to met you Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka bowed back, using a tiny bit of chakra to stop the rosy tint threatening to dot his face. He shouldn’t be embarrassed hearing a woman’s velvety smooth voice but his mind instantly went to inappropriate places. “The pleasure is mine, Leiko-san. How do you want me?”

Not even a quick burst of chakra could have stopped the blush warming his face. “I..I..”

“As a professional,” Kakashi said from the bed, head raised to glare at the mednin. “She’ll examine you in a clean, sterile room with an assistant watching.”

The wild glint in Leiko’s eyes disappeared in a blink. Clearly, she’d be prepared with a smart comment but knew better than to say anything out loud. “Of course, Ho-”

“ **And** ;,” Kakashi cut in, “As a busy professional, she’ll get to work in a timely manner.”

Pushing his hair back into a ponytail, Iruka shook his head at his husband’s actions. The man was so transparent he should have been made of glass. Leiko had bowed deeply and turned to leave, so Iruka took a step to show he was following. With half his body in the hospital proper, the other half still in the ridiculous little room, Iruka tilted slightly and spoke quietly. 

“Oh, Sakura-san,” he began, feeling the chakra of at least two nurses, an orderly and three patients shift. Whispering in a crowded space filled with shinobi was an ametaur move, the equivalent of screaming from the rooftops. Iruka knew his words would be the gossip of the week. 

“Please do something about Kakashi’s erectile dysfunction. It’s so embarrassing having the village’s Hokage be impotent.”

The only downside to his epic insult was it forced Iruka to walk away without catching Kakashi or Sakura’s reactions. He caught the nurses giggling though. That would have to be enough. 


	6. Medical Mystery Part I

The exam room was as white and sterile as Iruka expected, and, thankfully, Leiko was as professional and respectful as Kakashi had threatened. In a steady, emotionless pace, her green-chakra-laced hands moved across his body, mapping any potential injuries, warming his skin when she found something of concern. Dressed in brown scrubs, an assistant - who hadn’t given his name - took notes as Leiko dictated. Most of which Iruka didn’t understand.

When it became clear she wasn’t going to explain what was happening, Iruka spoke. “What’s….What’s wrong with me?”

The mednin stopped her assessment, hands hovering over his bandaged wrist. “We don’t know. Amnesia isn’t something the medical world has been able to study in depth. It’s not like an open wound or an attack from a jutsu. The mind is a complex thing and everyone’s mind works differently. Every case is unique and that’s a problem.”

“No simple solutions, right?”

Leiko smiled, something soft but somehow unkind. “Healing the mind is awfully close to teaching - there’s endless theories but it isn’t until you’re in there, doing the work that you realize the theories are useless. You’re never truly prepared because you never know what’s going to happen.”

Iruka could tell from her tone that he was supposed to understand her analogy, but his mind could only think of his academy teachers who refused to venture from their lesson plans so all the students could learn, forever repeating themselves in the vain hopes that only hearing _bear, rat, tiger_ ended in a jutsu.

The assistant made a not-so-subtle cough and Leiko took a step back. “We have to figure out **how** the amnesia has affected you,” she said. “I’m going to ask you some questions and I want you to answer them honestly. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Iruka Umino, what is your elemental affinity?”

He blinked once, surprised at the how the questioning began. “Water.”

The assistant scribbled his answer as Leiko continued. “And your father? Mother?”

“Dad was water too. Mom had an earth affinity but she was strong in fire too. It wasn’t a kekkei genkai, she was just too fierce to not have fire bending to her will.” His father’s old joke always made Iruka smile and the chunin was pleased to see Leiko respond in the same way.

“Counting down, can you name the multiples of 7? Starting at 36?”

“Sure. 35, 28, 21, 14, 7, 0.”

“Zero?” She blinked at the answer and a seed of anxiety was planted in Iruka’s stomach.

“Yes,” he paused, considering how to explain himself. “You said count back. I assumed you meant to zero.”

Her assistant spoke, “most people stop at seven.”

“Oh.” 

The word hung in the air for a moment before Leiko exhaled a soft wave of chakra as if to push the awkwardness away. “Now, some more complex questions. If today is Friday and I have plans three nights from now, when will I see my date?”

The assistant laughed once before he tried to turn it into a cough. Iruka ignored the man (and Leiko’s quick burst of angry-filled chakra) to answer her question. “Sunday.”

She nodded, then asked another question. “You’re fighting an enemy, one on one - no help is coming for either of you. They begin a jutsu, signing rat, crane, boar. How do you counter?”

Iruka hesitated to answer right away; there was something about her line of questioning that didn’t feel natural. A pattern for something.

The realization was a blow to the head. She wasn’t diagnosing his amnesia but determining if he was field ready. The question on counting backwards was to discern his memory skills, the question about her hypothetical date to examine his critical thinking and now a question on how to battle an enemy. It made sense.

The key was figuring out an answer that would not only impressive her - and therefore whoever reviewed his file - but would also demonstrate his decision-making process. If he failed this test, Iruka would be benched. And he couldn’t let that happen.

Rat would make the enemy’s jutsu fast, crane meant it was either a water or air-based attack and boar meant it would be reckless and powerful. Something hard to control but extremely dangerous. The enemy wanted Iruka dead and was probably more than willing to set off a volley of equally dangerous moves in rapid succession. A barrier - and a strong one - would be the only hope Iruka would have against a foe like that. That made choosing an answer easy.

“Tortoise, sparrow, and...” he stopped. His final core sign had to be something big. Something that would give him a lot of coverage. A foolish, but wicked, idea popped into his head. “Shark.”

Leiko tilted her head, eyes narrowing to focus on him. “Shark? Why?”

“Yes, shark.” He couldn’t contain the hint of a smile at her reaction. “Whatever the enemy is planning is dangerous. That gives me two options: avoid or shield. Dodging one attack is easy but an onslaught would definitely end in missing limbs. So the smart shinobi would choose to create a barrier, hence the need for tortoise.”

Leiko nodded, easily following his reasoning. And while Iruka didn’t dare break eye contact, he could hear the assistant rapidly jotting down his words. There was no way Iruka was failing this test - he would be approved for field missions and the man was more than prepared to take them.

Continuing his explanation, Iruka said, “Sparrow so the jutsu actives quickly, but also because I need to potentially block either air or water. And,” he stressed the word to prevent an interruption, “more importantly, an air-based barrier won’t hinder my sightlines like an Earth-based one would.”

Another nod from Leiko. “But why shark?”

“Shark because I need something that will make the barrier big.”

“Big?” She was poised, ready to dissect his technique.

“Yes, big. Tortoise barriers are strong but they’re slow to move. If, and when, more attacks come, moving the barrier is a better use of chakra reservations than casting new ones.”

“If you wanted big,” the assistant asked, “why not whale or another tortoise?”

Iruka shook his head. “That wouldn’t solve the problem - in fact, both whale and a second tortoise would exacerbate the problem. The barrier would be huge but I wouldn’t be able to adjust it when the enemy moved. They could get behind me - get in my blind spots - and attack before my jutsu would help me. Shark is the only way to prevent my barrier from becoming my own death trap.”

He paused, letting the assistant’s note-taking catch up before he dropped his final surprise. “Besides,” a deliberate pause to catch their attention, “shark gives my barrier an extra layer of defense. A bit of a bite, you could say.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows at the joke but when neither reacted, Iruka sighed and explained. “A barrier made with a shark essence can do more than just deflect the attack. If done correctly, it can redirect the jutsu back to its caster. It's like they say, the best offense is a great defense.”

Leiko stopped moving, her eyes flying to her assistant’s face before darting back to Iruka. “It can?”

“Yes,” said a deep voice from the doorway where Kakashi was standing, entire body stiff. “But it’s dangerous and should only be attempted by the best barrier users.”

Iruka scoffed. Loudly. “I may only be 16, but no one can match my barrier skills.”

An unnatural stillness swept through the room and the seed of anxiety in Iruka’s stomach bloomed when he realized his mistake. “Fuck. I’m not 16. I’m…” he blanked, face redding when it became abundantly clear he couldn’t remember his age. His gaze darted around the room, begging for help as he looked from Leiko to her assistant to where Sakura stood next to Kakashi. But her worry was clear on her face and Iruka felt the wave of anger he suppressed the night before rising again. He’d gotten too comfortable and his mental guard had slipped.

“You’re 36.” Kakashi filled the silence as he walked into the room, face nearly completely covered and while his body was stiff, his movements were solid. Nothing about him was readable.

“One last question,” Kakashi said, his voice soft but commanding. “How did you know I was the Hokage?”

“Wakai-kun,” Sakura said before Iruka could answer. “Please write up your notes for me to review. Leiko-san, assist him as needed.”

It was a dismissal designed to give them some privacy but Iruka felt like it was aimed at him. The young mednins left, a quick rustle of clothing as they walked out of the room, and headed to, presumably, gossip about the fool who thought he could bring honor to Konoha. The scarlet coloring refused to fade from Iruka’s face, but he turned, facing his husband head-on.

His wounded pride got the better of him and Iruka said, “I figured it out. I’m not an idiot.”

The only response that earned was a slight head tilt, grey hair shifting to point to the room’s upper corners. It was that, the notion that Kakashi wasn’t surprised at Iruka brilliance, that deflated Iruka’s building rage. He needed to remember that there were no enemies in this room. Every ninja village has an undercurrent, has secrets. But Iruka had sworn his life to this man - and that meant he wasn’t alone. Ever.

“I’m sorry,” it spilled out, his tormenting emotions making his tongue loose. “I shouldn’t have said that in the hallway. It was…” _wrong_.

Kakashi looked away, right hand scratching an itch on his neck.

“Pft,” Sakura said, pulling attention to herself. “Don’t apologize. It was a good prank and Kakashi-sensei deserved it.” She straightened an imagery wiggle in her lab coat before clearly shifting into Doctor Mode. “Kakashi is being discharged. I’ve healed his toe and he **will** follow my instructions to prevent the injury from returning.” She paused, chakra flailing with the last of her exasperation.

“Iruka-sensei,” tone softening but not coddling. “You can be moved into the hospital proper, stay in the Hokage’s room, or be discharged into Kakashi-sensei’s responsibility. What would you like?”

Two pairs of eyes turned, staring at his face, waiting. He felt the world slow to a stop, nothing progressing until Iruka made a choice. His mind said to stay in the hospital, that he clearly needed supervision. But his gut said the answer, the cure, to his amnesia was outside this building and while he would never be able to overpower Kakashi, hopefully, his husband could be convinced of a reckless idea.

“I’ll go with my husband.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! haha  
> If you like my writing, can I recommend my book:  
> https://www.amazon.com/Case-W-467-Poetry-Joseph-Benavidez/dp/1976886600/


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